


Family Photos

by FeoplePeel



Series: Every Thing that Grows [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Growing Up, Hannibal's still got it, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Will, manipulative children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:42:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1435522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeoplePeel/pseuds/FeoplePeel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal doesn't keep family photos at work. April finds out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Photos

April tapped her pen against the schedule in front of her a few times until the woman in bright red across the room coughed into her hand. A clear signal to stop.

April smiled widely and tapped harder. She worked with dogs, but she _knew_ people. With her father, this woman stood too close, stared too long at his mouth and, honestly, she could use a class or two in subtlety.

After a few moments, her father appeared to usher the slightly agitated woman in. He smiled at her as he shut the door and she sent him a small wave.

Hannibal hadn't actually needed a receptionist, she reflected. In all honesty, she hadn't needed another job. She worked part-time at the shelter and the hour and a half she normally spent waiting for her job to begin was now spent walking to her father's office and taking any phone calls. To stave off boredom, he had said.

There were _never_ any phone calls. April found herself more bored than ever.

Forty-five minutes passed this way. She glanced at her watch and began to pack her things.

*

April spotted the woman in the red dress (Cynthia, her mind provided with a slight hiss) at the bus stop outside of the office. She sidled up to her and coughed, lightly, into her hand. Cynthia's smile looked painful and April wondered if she remembered her at all.

Deciding to find out, April spoke first. "He's _so_ hot, isn't he?" Cynthia gave her a disbelieving look. "Doctor Lecter?" April clarified, flipping her hair for effect.

The other woman laughed, falling into a more comfortable stance. " _Extremely_ so." She agreed casually.

"I mean, and the fact that he's _married_ ," April fanned herself, "sign me up, am I right?"

"Um," Cynthia faltered, "yeah, I guess."

"I _suppose_ the kids are something to think about, but they're, like, practically grown, right?" April shrugged. "No sense worrying about them when he has _me_ to take care of."

"That's kind of," The woman blinked, losing any semblance of comfort she possessed and, April noticed, her vague English accent with it, shifting to something Mid-Western. "Are you sure you should be working with him, with those kinds of feelings?"

"I don't know," April retorted, "are you sure _you_ should be working with him?"

April could see the responses at war on her face. You're a little young, aren't you? It's different, I'm a client. I'm _special_. She settled on, "I have a sexual problem."

 _Bold. Impressive_ "Oh then you _really_ shouldn't be seeing him. Kids are one thing, but his husband's a psychopath." Cynthia's eye's widened and April nodded emphatically. "I'm serious, lady, you should meet the guy. He's wanted by, like, a couple of different countries but he's under U.S. protection because he did some kind of national hero shit."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't care. I'm just telling you this for your own good."

"There aren't any pictures." She responded meekly.

"Yeah, he thinks the camera steals a man's soul. I told you, he's nuts!"

"Why would Dr. Lecter marry a man," she swallowed and April narrowed her eyes, "a man like that?" she amended.

The bus was loading now and April shook her head, mock-sadness in her tone. "Love is blind, Cynthia," she smiled, "be safe!"

A hand fell on her shoulder as the bus pulled away. April spun around to face the man behind her with a smile. "Hey, dad. What are you doing here?"

"I was hoping to catch you before your shift." WIll raised an eyebrow. "A psychopath? Really?"

April gazed after the bus. "Why? What would you have told her?"

"The truth." April looked him over skeptically. "I'm married to Hannibal Lecter, I work with the FBI and blondes aren't his type." His daughter looked impressed. "That usually works."

"Jesus, dad, how many clients has papa lost because of you?"

Will seemed to seriously consider this. "Probably not enough."

*

Evening found them in their usual places. Will took a call from their son in the back yard while Hannibal settled in the living room with a book. April had gone upstairs to finish her homework but he soon heard her rather loud footfalls approaching the couch. He moved his feet as she sat in the place where they had been.

"Papa," Hannibal did not look up, but raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment, "why are there no pictures of us in your office?"

He placed his book on his chest, looking at her. "My office is a safe space for my clients to project their own personal thoughts and feelings. I like for as little of my own to be there as possible."

"You keep your art and books there." April pointed out. "That's personal."

"That's a different kind of personal. A piece of art can mean completely separate things to different people."

"So can family."

"Yes, but I am not there to discuss _my_ family. I have found that as few reminders of this as possible are necessary with some of my more," Hannibal looked somewhat uncomfortable, "unprofessional clients."

"You don't keep unprofessional clients." She scoffed. "Taste in arts and books, that's fair game. But you can't talk about us?"

Hannibal could not see his own face, but whatever it showed made his daughter laugh. In truth, he was thinking how little he wished to discuss any of the things she had mentioned with his clients and he said as much to her. "I choose not to discuss these things. Their sessions aren't about me."

April studied him for another moment before patting his feet and standing up. "Put a picture of us in your office and I _promise_ you'll get more clients." Hannibal's gaze followed her as she disappeared into the kitchen, Will trailing a hand over her hair as they passed one another on his way in.

His husband walked over to the couch, sitting in the spot April had vacated. "How is Misha?"

"He's considering grad school." Will lifted a shoulder. "I think he's just afraid to leave school and start working."

"A common fear among children his age."

"Don't psychoanalyze the kids." The corner of his lips lifted. Hannibal raised an eyebrow. "I know, I know. You can't turn it off." Will joined their pinkies and looked towards the kitchen. "He's not a child. I don't think either of them are, anymore." He pulled Hannibal's hand fully into his own and muttered, "Jesus, that's depressing."

They sat for a few moments, Will with his eyes closed and Hannibal lightly tracing an infinity pattern onto the back of his hand. April was running the blender in the kitchen. "Does the lack of familial pictures in my office make me seem inaccessible?"

Will opened an eye to look at him and quirked a smile. "You are," he paused, " _unavailable_."

Hannibal laughed, pulling the smaller man forward to lay on top of him. "Unattainable."

He looked away with a flippant jerk of his shoulders. "Unreasonable."

Hannibal gave his ear a sharp nip. He could feel the vibrations of Will's chuckle in his chest before the other man turned to kiss him at the corner of his mouth.

"Ew, guys, come on." Hannibal turned to see his daughter winding her way across the living room with a drink in one hand, her other placed firmly over her eyes. "That's _disgusting_ , I don't need to see that."

"Do not spill that, young lady, or there will be a reckoning." Hannibal groused, eyeing her closely.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she removed her hand as she reached the stairs, muttering, " _hot stuff_."

Hannibal shook his head, turning back to his predictably red-faced husband. "Positives, dear Will." He grabbed Will's chin, kissing him soundly. "Our April is clearly still a child."

Will snorted, the haze over his eyes darkening into something else as he leaned in to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> I really wish I could have done something with Franklyn because I have such a fondness for his character. Sadly, he is long dead in this headcanon, so we will just have stand-ins. On the plus side, Hannibal ages like a fine wine.


End file.
